Why I'm Glad I Had a Hysterectomy at 37

by Jessica Wolstenholm on July 16, 2015

Jessica Wolstenholm

About the Author

Jessica Wolstenholm is co-founder of Grace for Moms, an online community of moms who understand that motherhood is not one size fits all. After 15+ years in the music and publishing industries, Jessica came home to be with her two small children. Although the transition from the corporate world to the playground has been an adjustment, she is learning to love and appreciate the gift of being home as she navigates the full-time job of motherhood. Jessica lives just outside of Nashville, Tennessee, with her husband and two miracle babies.

About the Blog

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I got my first period when I was 11 and my last at age 37. That's 26 years of erratic cycles -- some heavy, some light. Sometimes there'd be 20 days between them; sometimes three months. I never knew when "Aunt Flo" was going to visit, and it drove me nuts! In fact, you could say I had a love/hate relationship with my uterus. I loved what it could do -- be a home for my children during pregnancy as my body nurtured their growth. But I hated what it did when I wasn't pregnant, and as soon as I was finished having babies, I begged my doctor for a hysterectomy.

I have polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), a condition that messed with my hormones and wreaked havoc on my menstrual cycle. My doctor told me that PCOS contributed to my infertility issues, my multiple miscarriages and an early-detected case of gestational diabetes with my first pregnancy. This condition has been a thorn in my side for years, which is why I pleaded for what I saw as a magical surgery that would remove my uterus and cease all unpredictable bleeding. But my OB/GYN refused to cut me open and remove an organ simply because my PCOS was inconvenient.

Then, last summer I had my period for a whole month. Thirty days. This had happened once in high school (I know... torture), so I didn't think much of it. When it happened again after only a week or two of respite, I made an appointment with my doctor.

"You have a uterine polyp," she reported. "Rare for a woman your age but it's small. We'll get it with a D&C." So, I had the surgery to clean out my uterus and looked forward to a month (at least) with no bleeding. I think I went a few weeks before the bleeding started again and lasted a few months this time. All throughout the fall I had my "period." It was awful.

When I went to see my doctor again, she suggested we do a uterine ablation -- a procedure that destroys the lining of the uterus so it stops bleeding. But then my kind and sympathetic physician looked at me and said, "Or, we could just do a partial hysterectomy. At this point, that is the only way to ensure this doesn't happen anymore."

I think my face lit up at her suggestion. This is what I'd been wanting. (Well... almost. I've always wanted those blasted ovaries gone, too, but I understand that losing your ovaries too soon can be serious for some women). At least now, I'd have the best of both worlds. No more bleeding. And, although I'd still feel some effects of my PCOS, it would be less inconvenient. Perfect.

At the end of last year I went in for the surgery. Within a few hours I was without that precious organ that helped me to become a mother. The procedure was simple: The surgeon made three small incisions in my belly and removed my uterus laparoscopically. When I awoke from the anesthesia, I was groggy and in a mild amount of pain -- but nothing I couldn't handle with medication and a nurse by my side. I stayed 24 hours in the hospital and was released the next afternoon.

At home I was instructed to rest and wait a few days before resuming a low level of normal activity. The hardest part of recuperation for me was not being able to lift my two small children for a month post-surgery. Because of this, I scheduled a friend or family member to stay with us daily when my husband couldn't be there. I was also unable to work out for a month after the surgery (which, truthfully, wasn't a huge disappointment for me). Seven months later I can't even see the scars from my hysterectomy.

As much as I wanted it gone, I admit it was bittersweet to say goodbye to my uterus. Although it ended up being a source of much discomfort and frustration, my womb carried my children perfectly. It was a safe and nurturing home for them. And, the reality that I would never experience pregnancy and birth again if I wanted to was hard to accept.

Still, I knew this was my path. Everything I had experienced led up to this point in my life. Feeling incredibly grateful that I had the opportunity to grow tiny humans within my body, I peacefully said goodbye to their first home. (Turns out we made the right decision. Once inside, my doctor discovered I had adenomyosis of the uterus, which would have meant continual bleeding and could only be relieved by removing the uterus.)

I am by no means making a case for all women to have a hysterectomy -- either partial or full -- especially out of convenience. But I do feel lucky that I was able to get a medically necessary partial hysterectomy. Perhaps it was fate giving me what I deserved after suffering through years of erratic cycles, infertility, multiple pregnancy losses and the need to stock pile tampons.

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